


Wait, What?

by Artemis_Dreamer



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Badass!Loki, Crack, FrostIron - Freeform, Humor, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Dreamer/pseuds/Artemis_Dreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Avengers face off against a cliche villain, and Loki shows up unannounced. Epic Loki time, and a FrostIron reveal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait, What?

What the hell were they? Who knows. Where did they come from? Ask the maniacal villain in the theatrical cape and white face-paint. Were they dangerous beyond all reason and almost impossible to take down? Yes and yes.

Long story short, the Avengers were in the midst of what they would never admit was a losing battle. A hands-down, royally-screwed losing battle.

The freak of the week was some flamboyant and overly dramatic nutcase that made Doom, Mephisto and even Loki appear sane by comparison. All well and good, before he summoned a half-dozen massive automatons to beat the team of heroes into a bloody pulp. (Which was pretty much exactly what was happening.)

Every member of the team was locked in their own individual skirmish – sort of. The Hulk was taking on a matched pair, and Hawkeye and Widow were double-teaming the most agile of the buggers.

Of course it figured - just fucking figured - that Tony Stark got himself saddled with the biggest and baddest of the big baddies. The one that had just launched itself off of the roof of a nearby apartment block, hurtling down through the air to body slam the immobilized Iron Man into a crushed can of mincemeat.

Joy. The last thoughts of the billionaire playboy, had they been recorded, would have been something along the lines of a furious, expletive-laden rant about flimsy flight stabilizers. He was meant to soar, to be an airborne missile of epic death. And fuck it, he was going to die grounded, trapped in a faulty suit.

Three seconds to impact... Two, one...

The automaton froze in mid-air. Quite literally froze, trapped in a solid pillar of ice that had erupted from the ground - just inches from Tony's toes. The pillar surged upwards, thickening and widening as it rose, crackling with frigid energy, to completely engulf the last remaining appendages of the robotic menace.

The Avengers had stopped their battles in order to stare. The other automatons had stopped fighting in order to stare. Even the villain had stopped his monologue in order to stare, gaping open-mouthed.

The battlefield was deadly silent.

A cracking sound, the sound of a bullwhip, split the silence. A bolt of pure energy, emerald green in color, impacted the icy prison with unimaginable force.

The ice exploded. The automaton exploded. Chunks of flash frozen robot were blasted six city blocks in all directions.

“Anthony Stark will die by my hand, and my hand only.”

An arrogant, infuriated, and far too familiar voice cut through the rapidly-chilling air.

Well, shit.

Loki, God of Mischief and thorn in the side of the Avengers, materialized before their villain du jour.

Seizing the unfortunate man by the throat, and pinning him against the railing of his hovering control platform, Loki hissed something in the freak's ear that made him visibly pale beneath his white makeup. There was a soft and mewling cry, a whimper.

Then, a blade, a weapon of frigid green energy, was thrust brutally through the screwed-over bad guy's chest and slowly turned. Jesus, that was messy. His limp body was thrown carelessly over the aforementioned rail - fifteen stories down. No-one could bear to watch, but the wet splatting noise was unmistakable.

Newest freak-show? Officially deceased.

The unstable mischief-maker stood for a moment on the platform, giving a short bark of laughter. Carelessly wiping the blood splatters from his face with one pale hand, he turned to the heroes and their remaining adversaries.

“Pathetic," he smirked. "Far too simple, really. Merely a touch of FROST.”

He stressed the last word, and as he did, the remaining five automatons dropped from the air, rapidly icing over and becoming what looked like giant snowballs. Casually flipping his staff heel over crown, he flourished it expertly. 

This was real drama. Real suspense. Not some loony-toon caricature amateur-hour bullshit.

Five bolts of energy, so precisely aimed that even Hawkeye was grudgingly impressed. Five explosions of ice and shrapnel. Five automatons taken out before they could even hit the ground.

“Pathetic," he repeated.

Suddenly, with a quirk of the wrist, he disappeared, reappearing an instant later in front of Tony-motherfucking-Stark. Reaching out a hand, he pulled the armored man to his feet, casually displaying downright incredible - inhuman - strength.

The billionaire slumped forwards onto the leaner man's chest, flushed and grinning out from the remains of his seriously scrapped helmet. His metal-clad hands reached up to loop carelessly around the high-collared neck of the true villain's costume. (Complete with horny - sorry, HORNED - helmet.)

"That was FAR too close for comfort, Anthony."

The mischief-maker admonished. Breathy, with just a hint of panic. His eyes were half-lidded, lips slightly parted in an open invitation - 'thank me’.

Tony had not needed an invitation.

Loki’s words were the only ones spoken before Iron Man lunged for his savior's mouth and began fiercely and desperately making out with the sexy supervillain. His tongue was half-way down the god's throat, hands rising to clutch at that majestic helmet.

Desperate, lustful and completely perfect.

Finally they pulled apart, panting heavily, after some seriously smoking guy-on-guy action. (Grinding may have been involved, as well a hint of filthy, filthy talk.)

Watching that had produced three awkward turtles, one burning rage and one raging boner - figure the names out for yourselves folks.

The only words that the stunned-silent, suddenly-the-third-wheel Avengers could catch before the pair vanished in a billow of gold dust were an exasperated "... reckless beyond all reason," and a teasing reply of "Of course; that's how you love me."

Wait, what? Love?

The Avengers collectively swore, even Captain America.

Fuck. That couldn’t have been right.

(It was).

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hope that wasn't too terrible for you.
> 
> This is my first work on this site - I wrote it a few months ago, but didn't have the guts to post it. Please, tell me what you think. Any criticism or feedback is appreciated.
> 
> Please note that the informal/lighthearted tone was intentional, and hopefully not too off-putting.


End file.
